


I've been thinking about you

by AnxiousRabbitEars



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Impulse Writing, Oneshot (maybe), Pining, Pining is mutual but only one side is told unless someone wants to read the other half and says so, Underfell, songfic (kinda), swears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-21 07:17:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16572113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnxiousRabbitEars/pseuds/AnxiousRabbitEars
Summary: Sans has enough and needs to vent. Then forms an attachment after a one-time meeting. I got the idea from the song "Skin" by Rag'N Boneman.First oneshot/songfic(kinda).





	I've been thinking about you

**Author's Note:**

> The all caps is the voice that everyone has that tell you you suck. In this case very aggressively.

Fuck my life.

It’s been one thing after another all week. First Papyrus was on his case for so much as blinking at his post, then he destroyed Sans’ post and made him rebuild it for shits and giggles. Then some sick bastard murdered a kid and left the dust pile on their doorstep. 

Guess who had to track down the family and give ‘em the news. 

All week Sans has had to deal with death threats, attempts on his life, bloodthirsty parents, thieving brats, arson, and Papyrus being a HUGE douchebag. Normally none of that would have beeen such a big deal, but for whatever reason it was even more fucked-up than usual, and Sans was quickly approaching his limit for how much bullshit he could take. 

He needed a break.

Not that he’d get one trapped underground with a bunch of assholes that would rather turn on each other than work together. He wouldn’t be surprised if that’s how monsters lost the war with the humans in the first place.

He’d have to settle for delicious mustard. 

At least he could if he wasn’t staring at a condiment-free fridge.  
“Pap, what the fuck happened to my god damned mustard?!” “I threw that disgusting crap out. It was cluttering the fridge.” Sans gritted his teeth, holding back a snarl. Paps’ been really pissy lately and chewing him out would just start a fight that’d end with dust on the floor. He prayed to whatever fucked-up god looking down on him to let Pap chill-the-fuck-out and soon, before they killed each other. “I’m going out,” Sans grumbled as he grabbed his jacket and walked out the door. Papyrus only grunted in acknowledgement. 

Fucking bastard.

At least he could still go to Grillby’s for mustard and a stiff drink.   
“Pay your damn tab, Sans,” Grillby shouted across the room just as a drunken brawl broke out. Sans had literally just walked through the door and already the bullshit starts. He made his way to the bar through the mess. “I’ll pay it tomorrow,” he said forcing a smile. He doubted it would change anything but at the moment it was the only thing keeping him calm. Grillby just glared. “That’s what you said last week, and I haven’t seen a single G from you.” “C’mon, Grillby. You know I’m good for it.” “That’s not going to cut it this time. Don’t come back until you have my money, Sans.” That was it. The final straw. This was the shittiest day he’s had yet. Sans left the bar, hands balled into fists and shaking with barely suppressed rage. Then he walked. He didn’t care who he passed. He didn’t care that he had left town and was entering the woods. Hell, he didn’t care if someone killed him to stick it to Papyrus. He was done with this shit. Everyday had been worse than the last for weeks. Usually he could go to Grillby’s to cool down, but now that wasn’t an option until he got the G to pay off that flaming asshole. 

“You look like you could use a drink.”

It came from his right.   
Sans turned to see who had spoken to him and saw nothing but trees in the darkness. He wouldn’t be surprised if it was someone who’d try to kill him or even if it was his imagination, but he was beyond caring at that point. He’d take his chances. A woman stepped into his sights. She was taller than him by a head and if it weren’t for her dark coat she would have been almost impossible to tell apart from the snow. All he could properly see of her were the red rings at the corners of her mouth that glowed ever so faintly. She actually resembled a human a little. Odd. “Look, if you’ve got a bone to pick with me or my brother just get it over with. Otherwise I’m not exactly in a chattin’ mood, Sweet heart,” he said frankly. The stranger didn’t move. “Well I don’t know you or your brother, so I guess there’s no use trying to talk to you,” she replied. She pulled a bottle out from the inside of her coat. “But maybe my friend here would have a better chance at a conversation?”  
.  
.  
.  
He did need a drink.

****************************************************************************************************************************************

Fuck, my head’s killin’ me.

How much did he drink last night?   
His skull was pounding like someone was taking a sledgehammer to it. 

He remembered having drinks with a girl he’d just met back at her place, in the middle of nowhere, and also bitching about his life for a good chunk of the night, then flirting with her after he was so drunk that he forgot he was pissed, but after that he could only recall bits and pieces. He had no idea how he even got home, let alone made it to his bed. He did remember the girl though. He just wished he could remember her name too. He found himself wondering if she remembered him too. Sure, she was cute, but weird as hell. She had acted like she didn’t mind listening to him bitch. 

Weird.

“Everyone needs someone to talk to, Red.”

She had said it like it was as normal as walking out the door and being told to fuck yourself. Who in their right mind would listen to the problems of stranger. Willingly. Who does that? No one does that. Not even Grillby does that and he’s a bartender, listening to people bitch is literally part of his job. You have to pay him extra for whining privileges, and even then, he’d mock you the entire time. She had just sat there quietly, listened to his problems, and tried to make him feel better, even offered solutions.

Fucking weird.

****************************************************************************************************************************************

I wonder what her little bro is like.

STOP.

Why can’t I remember her name?

CUT IT OUT!  
STOP THINKING ABOUT HER!

What is wrong with him? He met the broad once, why can’t he get her out of his head? It was stupid. Pointless. Another thought to keep him awake at night. But… He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had cared about what he had to say, about his feelings, or smiled like they had a reason to, or laughed at his fucked-up jokes and actually liked them. When she had looked at him, she had only seen him, not Papyrus’s brother, not some weakling with 1 HP, just Sans. She had offered a drink to a complete stranger that could have killed her at a moment’s notice and expected nothing in return even when she had a kid brother look out for just like him. Everything that she had said or done had been so kind, so sincere, so fucking stupid, so weird. She didn’t belong down here. Not with these bastards. Not with him. 

MORON.

GET A GRIP MAN. YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW HER NAME. DON’T GO GETTING ATTATCHED BECAUSE SOME RANDOM GIRL WAS NICE TO YOU AND PRETENDED TO CARE ABOUT YOUR FEELINGS. EVEN IF YOU DO MEET HER AGAIN, SHE’D PROBABLY TELL YOU FUCK OFF LIKE EVERYONE ELSE. YOU’RE NOTHING BUT A PIECE OF SHIT THAT’S SO DESPERATE FOR LOVE YOU’D RISK GETTING KILLED JUST SO YOU’D HAVE SOMEONE TO TALK TO. WHO WOULD EVER GIVE YOU THE TIME OF DAY WITHOUT GETTING SOMETHING OUT OF IT. EVEN PAPYRUS ONLY PUTS UP WITH YOUR BULLSHIT BECAUSE HE FEELS SORRY FOR YOU, SO WHY WOULD SHE BE ANY DIFFERENT THAN THE OTHERS?

The doorbell rings. 

Papyrus yells at him from the kitchen. “Sans answer the door! And try to not get killed, I don’t have time to waste cleaning up the dust if you do!”  
“Sure thing, Boss,” Sans growled and trudged to door. He readied himself for an attack just to be safe, before throwing open the door to see…no one. Sans suppressed a groan. Now he could add irritated to the contributing factors of his already sour mood. He stepped back to close the door. There was a piece of folded paper taped to the front.   
The fuck? Sans grabbed the note and slammed the door. “Well, who was it, you lazy piece of trash” Papyrus questioned from his place in front of the stove. Sans looked the paper in his hand. ‘Red’ was scrawled across the front in messy letters. He put it in his pocket. “Nobody. Probably just some shitty kids.” He didn’t need to let Paps know about the note. 

*******************************************************************************************************************************************

He could the feel the paper in his pocket, how it pulsed in time with his soul whenever he thought about it during dinner. How it felt alive. It needed to be read. 

It’s not important though.   
Plenty of people call him “Red”, there’s no reason to be so amped up about a piece of paper. 

STOP ACTING LIKE A FOOL.   
WHY WOULD SHE SEND YOU ANYTHING? WHY WOULD SHE CARE?

“Why not? Seems like there’s plenty of reasons why someone would care.”

But why?! He was an asshole, he’d even told her that. She had just laughed and said that everyone else was too, including her.

SHE’S NOT INTERESTED, DUMBASS. SHE FEELS SORRY FOR YOU. IT’S NOT LIKE YOU’LL SEE HER AGAIN.  
STOP GETTING YOUR HOPES UP.   
YOU MET HER ONCE. SHE WAS NICE. GET OVER IT.

It wouldn’t hurt to read it though.  
He took the note out of his pocket once the door was closed and smoothed out the creases in the paper before reading the message inside. The words were as messy as the name on the front. 

Hope you made it inside, you were pretty out of it when I left you at your door. You might not even remember me.   
If not, there’s a stranger that thinks your life has worth even if you don’t at times.   
But whether you remember or not, I hope we meet again someday. – Pins  
P.S. Next time you’re drunk off your ass don’t grab mine. I’m keeping your hand if it happens again.

 

Pins…

STOP SMILING, DUMBASS.

He couldn’t even if he wanted to.

*****************************************************************************************************************************************

It was snowing. 

Not that snow was anything special, he’d seen snow everyday in Snowdin. It was seeing the weather change so abruptly, the clouds gathering and covering the sky leading to the snow that had him smiling. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to the temperamental skies of the surface.  
He took a moment to watch the tiny white flakes of ice before continuing through the park. It wasn’t the safest place this time of night, but he’d been having a good day and decided to ignore the risk. It was still hard to believe that a year had passed since that stupid kid had fallen into the underground. The brat had just kept going. He had no clue why when everyone but the fucking flower had tried to kill them. But monsters were free thanks to them. Because they cared when they had no reason to. Because they thought monsters were worth something, that he was worth something. Just like her.   
He had managed to stop thinking about her during the time Papyrus had him babysitting the human. But the moment the barrier came down, she was his first thought.   
Was she still alive? Was she doing alright? Would she go to the surface? 

Was she thinking about him?

He’d tried to find her house to tell her the news himself*, but when he did it was empty except for a single pile of dust. He had run himself ragged trying to find out what happened, but no one who would talk to him knew anything. There wasn’t even anyone who knew that Pins and her brother existed aside from Sans. It seemed like he had finally caught a lead from the bunny running the town’s store, but it had ended with a grave behind Pins’ house marked 'Jack'.  
He had even asked around on the surface just in case it had been some random asshole he’d found in the house, and once again no one knew anything.   
Sometimes it felt like he'd gone crazy, he’d hear her voice, or see her pass him on the street only for it to be nothing but his imagination. He had actually started to worry Paps for a while. Papyrus had locked Sans in a room and interrogated him to make sure he wasn’t on drugs. Grillby had even agreed to drop a line if he heard anything just so Sans would stop talking about her when he was wasted.   
He had long since stopped looking for leads though, and turned his attention to living his life on the surface, but sometimes he’d still wonder what happened. What could have been.   
Sans stopped walking. He had walked the entire way to Grillby’s without realizing it. He checked the time on his phone, he could grab a drink and a couple bottles of mustard before last call. He took a step towards the door when his phone rang, it was Grillby.   
Should he answer it or just walk in? Did Grillby hear something? Why did it feel like his soul was going to burst? His hand shook as he opened the door and stepped inside. 

She was sitting at the counter.

Her hair was shorter, her coat sleeve was ripped, there were small fractures in the skin on her neck, looked like she’d been a fight, but when she turned and smiled at him his soul hummed all the same.

“I missed you, Red.”

**Author's Note:**

> *Pins owns neither radio nor tv, which is why Sans went to tell her. Otherwise she wouldn't have known


End file.
